The Myran Catastrophe
by HatlessHorseMan
Summary: My first Fan fiction. Please leave a review! I'm trying to update this weakly, but as I suffer from chronic writer's block, I might not be able to do it every week.
1. Prelude

Prelude

The sound of Lasguns and Heavy Bolters cracked through the dark thickets. The unholy roars of Tyranid Carnifexs filled the night air; our brothers didn't have much time. Both man and beast shrieked in pain as the battle raged in the distance. Despite the horrors we heard from the clearing, we remained resolute in our task. The platoon was sprinting through the jungle to get behind the Tyranid advance. We ran, stumbling over fallen tree limbs and each other. We remained quite though; the Tyranids had a distinct advantage in the jungle. With each step closer to the clearing, the sounds of war only became more terrifying. Soon, we could see fire beyond the trees.

"Lights, Boys!" Captain Leopold whispered to his command squad. A sudden whistle followed by another shortly after came from the back of my squad. The night sky was lit by two flares that revealed the enemy to us; something that I'd rather not seen. There were at least a thousand Hormagaunts backed up by several Carnifexs closing in on the camp. Luckily we were behind them, but not for long. "For the Emperor! For the Imperium!" Leopold shouted.

The flares caught the attention of the many un-engaged Tyranids. They stood briefly, in awe of the magnesium fires above them, but only for a moment. Nearly half the Tyranids attacking the main detachment of the regiment turned around and began to run at us. They were nearly a kilometer away, but they came closer to us with unimaginable speed.

"Lasguns up, grenades ready!" I yelled to my squad. "Fire!" I leveled my laspistol and charged my chain sword. The beautiful crack of las bolts filled the air, but there was something wrong. Twiggs could be heard snapping further in the forest. My senses became acute, blocking out most of the lasgun fire and arrogant, jolly profanity. We weren't alone.

Suddenly a fellow Sergeant cried out, "'Stealers! 10 O'clock! Get ba-". The sergeant's voice was cut out as the claws of a Genestealer ripped through him. They were still a good 20 meters away from me and my men.

"Adjust your fire to the 'Stealers, damn it!" I yelled. I swung around to meet the Genestealers, and saw a site that churns my stomach to this day. Seconds had passed since the sergeant fell and a Genestealer already stood in front of me. White skin, four arms, each with three fingers tipped with claws that can rip through terminator armor like wet tissue paper; I was frozen with fear. As I stood there, it opened its mouth and roared, spewing drops of green saliva on my face. It lifted its arm, preparing to strike me down, when one of my squad mates put a las bolt right through its eye. I snapped out of it and fired my laspistol a few times. "By the Emperor, I will destroy you, dirty xenos!" Soon, all the 'stealers were killed. Our immediate obstacle was out of our way. Now we just had to deal with the few hundred Hormagaunts headed our way. "Resume firing!" I commanded.

"Lay into 'em!" Captain Leopold yelled confidently. A spectacular amount of Tyranids fell, but it still wasn't enough. They were only a few dozen meters away. But again, my senses became acute. I heard the rapid pounding on machines. The ground shook and metal screeched together. Suddenly, 20 or so Tyranids were engulfed with flames from a heavy flamer. 30 or so more fell to the shriek of heavy bolters; the sentinels had arrived. The Tyranids became disoriented and the few that were left fell to sweeping las fire.

As my men and I got our bearings, we heard faint cheers from the troopers back at base. Soon the cheers spread to us, and the march back began. Instead of dodging trees and limbs in the jungle, we walked through the clearing. Hundreds of Tyranid corpses polluted the air with their scent. The Vox-caster in the Captain's squad was receiving and sending communications fast than I thought possible. I could hear the comm officer in the distance saying things like, "enemy neutralized" and "reporting six casualties". We got lucky this time, the whole regiment, but this was far from our last battle. The Emperor protects.

Sergeant Philip Conrad, 796th Cadian Combined Arms Regiment, 4th Company, 2nd Platoon

Testimony of the Myran Campaign, Day 8


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Planet Fall

Cool air wisped through the halls of _The Pride of Service, _a retro-fitted Imperial freighter, as I walked to the main compartments. The four main loading areas were each converted to a barracks-of-sorts were troopers slept, ate, and trained. I took to the halls to get away from the men so I could clear my mind. We were briefed that we were going to fight the Tyranid presence on Myra. I don't know why it did, but it had shaken me so. I fought the Eldar before, but this seemed different. From the rumors, Tyranids have no concept of retreat. Do or die. It gave me a sickening feeling, the same that had saved me and my squad several times in the past. Just like when we nearly walked into that Eldar ambush, I knew something was wrong.

I looked out the window in the hall down at our destination. Being so close, half the planet was obscured from view. I heard more gossip about this place, Myra. Apparently it was a place of varying climates and biomes; just like that of ancient Terra millennia ago. There were vast oceans and lakes filled with unique sea life. It was perfect for the cultivation of food when it was originally settled about 2,000 years ago. But it's said that a strange anomaly struck the thriving planet some 500 years earlier. Perhaps through the work of nature or Tzeentch or whatever, the magnetic poles of the planet shifted into a different position. The planet was thrown into turmoil. Anyone that remained died and the vast biomes were reduced to three main sections. There are now the North and South Jungles; between that is the "Great Desert". A few years after the catastrophe, Myra was resettled by the refugees that fled from her in years past, but it was no longer fit to be an Agriworld. Now it's a "civilized" world with a small but fast growing population. Specifics of how the Tyranids arrived there is unknown, but it has gone unchecked for far too long.

"All units report. We will be entering the atmosphere in 20 minutes. Report to your designated hanger. We will be entering combat-ready." The intercom broke the silence. With my chainsword resting on my shoulder, I began to march back to the hangars. Suddenly, the entire ship was plunged into darkness. The hum of machines stopped for a brief moment. Seconds later the ship was back online. Alarms began to fill the once serene halls. "Remain calm! We are experiencing a minor technical error! Return to the hangars at once! Planet fall postponed indefinitely!" I began running to the hangar. Another black out occurred, this time for several minutes. I was approaching the hangars when power was once again restored. "Emergency planet fall will commence in less than five minutes! All bulkhead doors will be sealed shut upon entering the atmosphere!"

"Damnit!" I said, teeth clenched. Attempting to retrace my steps, I ran into a new corridor, one I never travelled. I was disoriented by the raging alarms. I went through junction after junction, finding no sign of the hangars. When all hopes seemed lost, I hear the faint sounds of a few guardsmen sprinting through the halls. Four troopers ran across the T-section straight ahead of me. "Wait!"

"Come on, hurry!" I heard one trooper say back. The hairs on my neck stood straight up and I ran at a speed I though wasn't humanly possible. As I turned the corner I saw Hangar #3, where my squad was waiting for me. As I ran down the hall, the bulkhead doors slowly began to come down.

"Entering atmosphere! Prepare for enter-" The intercom cut out and the ship turned black again, to my luck this time, however. The bulkhead door stopped half way just I slid under the small passage. The power turned back on immediately and I look frantically for my subordinates.

"Over here, Sergeant!" I heard a voice to my left. I immediately stopped, almost tripping, and turned left to see Corporal Lukas. "Come on! We're descending!"

Relieved, I ran to them. I saluted Lukas and looked at my squad. "Everyone here?"

"Yes, sir. Ready and able." Lukas replied, "Where were you?"

"Wondering the flight decks." The men looked at me strangely because, well, it was pretty stupid to do that right before planet fall.

"Sergeant Conrad," one of the men said, "What the Hell is going on? Er, ah… Sir!"

Trying to light the mood, I Jokingly said, "I dunno, Kormick. Do I look like a Techmarine?"

"Master of the Forge…" Lukas piped in.

Suddenly, the ship convulsed violently. Whether or not it was a good thing, this space hulk was making planet fall.

One of my soldiers, Private Grant, commented, "I've always hated this part."

We began picking up speed, heating up the entire hangar. The boosters blocked out most sound. "Ready or not, Myra, here we come!" I yelled cheerfully. I was trying my hardest to hide my fears about facing the Tyranids. I couldn't let my men see their leader withering from fear in the line of duty. I kept my chin up, and encouraged my men to do the same.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The Northern Woodlands

"Remain calm! Engaging standard landing procedure! Remain seated!" The intercom over the sound of motion sick soldiers was the last thing I was able to hear before the boosters went into the next stage. At this point, there was no way for me to convey false bravery to my subordinates. We all clenched what was nearest to us as the vessel seemed only to get faster. I take pride in my resilience to space travel and the nauseating effects it brings, but I wouldn't even pretend that I wasn't grabbing the nearest bucket – or an unlucky soldier's helmet – when we were going down. With what little lucid thought I hadn't lost to adrenaline, I began to wonder: With all the Chimeras, Sentinels, Hellhounds, Leman Russ's, Earthshaker Cannons, several thousand troopers, and their rations, was it safe to assume we wouldn't be a pile of metal and flesh to be scraped off the ground? Are we really so disposable that the Munitorum would risk all of our lives by putting us on an overloaded freighter just to save a few credits? Actually, now that you think about it… but they wouldn't waste a Russ.

As the boosters screeching became even more deafening, everything started going slower. I took what little attention I had away from whatever I was planning to use as a waste-bin and looked at my hand. I slowly rotated my shaking right hand; first at my palm then at the back. Losing my mind to anxiety, I had come to terms with myself; I wasn't going to ever see Cadia again, I wasn't even going to die honorably. I trained all my life and it was going to end with me dying on some backwater planet because of a technical failure. To comfort myself, I realized there were worse way to live my life. I could have been the citizen on a Forge World; Sleep for six hours and work in a factory all day until I died of black lung. I could have been captured by the Eldar in the last campaign and been subject to gut-wrenching torture until slowly drowning in my own blood. As more comforting thoughts slipped through my head, I noticed things got even slower, and slower. I was becoming drunk on adrenaline; or so I'd thought. A sound began to prevail over the ringing in my ears. For a second, I looked around and was confused. Then one of my men grabbed and shook my shoulder. I finally realized what I was hearing: soldier cheering. Things _were _slowing down. The crew finally stabilized the ship and we were getting close to the ground. I guess an honorable death wasn't out of the question after all.

The ship slowly made its way toward the ground. I wanted to stand up and join the men cheering, but I felt nauseous once again once I tried to stand. I also had half a mind to keep my mouth shut; whatever I blithered out would most likely be an incoherent mess. I was still dizzy from my near death experience, so I just laid against my pack and tried to regain my faculties.

"What a ride!" Lukas yelled to us, trying to act tough. "I hope none of you civvies feel like sitting down for any longer. There's work to do!" I quite honestly was displeased with his words. He _was _a Corporal after all; if I fell in the midst of battle, the responsibility of keeping the squad alive was on him. I would have hoped he was a little more mature by now. But maybe he was trying to keep up morale, only the Emperor knows.

The ship crashed to the ground, shaking us one last time. The ship stood still for a moment. "Alright, men. File out, and keep your eyes peeled. The 'Nids could be anywhere. This is where we set up camp." Yelled the Lieutenant.

"Form up!" I yelled to my squad. Lukas motioned to the others and we stood in two columns. There were 500 some soldiers standing in the ports, combat ready; and what a site it was! Their Cadia Green armor shined and lasguns gleamed. Each column was a perfect line of helmets reflecting the hangar's overhead lights. The smell of burning Promethium filled the air of the flight deck as Sentinels and Chimeras started their engines. Being a light infantry company, we didn't get the luxury of APCs like the heavies and elites. It's not like we would get to use them very often anyway; the dense jungle gave even Sentinels a hard time trying to travel the thickets. Like any good light infantry squad, my men and I were trained for marching long, searching far and wide for the enemy or any trap they might have laid.

"Move out! Let's give these vermin a proper Cadian welcome!" Captain Leopold, the "The Bear" as we came to know him, said in his usual deep, guttural voice. Any order he gave was heard loud and clear. He's widely admired by the men because he isn't afraid to associate with the rank-and-file and often stands up for the common private where lesser men would have been complacent. He has a reputation as a brave old soldier who wouldn't back down from a fight. But on the flipside, he was cautious and would never waste men. Lieutenant Ross, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. Ross is self-serving, reckless, incompetent, and even suspected by some to be a coward. James Leopold and William Ross both enlisted at the founding of the regiment and served as privates together in the same platoon. As one of the few survivors of the first generation of 796th, you'd expect Ross to be a bit higher in the ranks, especially with all the ass-kissing he does. Leopold recognizes him as the worst of all four platoon commanders. The captain usually puts a commissar in Ross' squad, and for good reason. All of 4th Platoon hopes one day he'll just loose it and run, giving the commissar more than enough reason to "make an example of" him; then maybe one of us sergeants could take his place, and I think I am due for a promotion, ha ha! Ross is the last guy you would trust with your life, which all of 4th Platoon was required to do.

As the great hangar doors lumbered open, moisture flooded the air inside the corridor. Small insects buzzed throughout the new air and welcomed us the great Northern Jungle. We landed in the middle a quite a large clearing, a place suitable for us near 3,000 soldiers and machines of war. I have a feeling we landed off course, as we were to land outside a capital of this back-water planet and rendezvous with the crippled PDF and the remnants of a regiment sent here a few years earlier. It was going to be hell for the engineers to clear a path to where ever the city was. We marched out on the double and established a perimeter while the vehicles made their way out. Lucky for us, it is seeming to be an easy deployment. At least we have some time to adjust before we have to fight any Xenos.


End file.
